


Metal Gear Liquid: Tactical Espionage Action

by ImmortalDecay



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2020-12-17 11:26:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21053621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImmortalDecay/pseuds/ImmortalDecay
Summary: Picking up where Metal Gear Solid 2: Son's of Liberty left off, Solid Snake dives after Liquid Ocelot who is on a mission to destroy the Patriot's once and for all. But what awaits Snake in the underground base? And what does Liquid plan on doing, and why is he so eager for Snake to join him?With a cast of characters old and new, this headcanon continuation of the posession plot introduced in MGS2 and retconned in MGS4 will be a fun adventure fanfic structured in the style of a classic metal gear game.





	1. Chapter 1

Snake dove headfirst into the water and kicked his legs into motion. He could see movement in the murky ocean depths, mechanical movement made from the Metal Gear Ray. The Metal Gear was creating a slipstream in the water, a tunnel that pulled Snake deeper and deeper… Snake followed. The water was  _ freezing  _ and the deeper he swam the colder he felt, despite his protective all-environment sneaking suit, but Snake didn’t flinch. He kicked his legs hard into the depths and propelled his body down, down, down, and chased after the METAL GEAR. The blurry shape of it was almost indistinguishable from the water around it. The shape was fading, and the slipstream began to lose its pull. Snake finally realised: it was going to get away.

Through a lungful of bubbles Snake yelled into the abyss, “LIQUID!”

He was answered when a metal tendril whipped toward him. Metal Gear Ray’s tail lashed out. It cut through the water and encircled him. It pulled tight and he was constricted by its cold, hard grasp, and it pulled him toward the blurry weapon of mass destruction.

Snake almost lost consciousness by the sudden increase in G-force that rocked his mind back and forth. It was only moments ago that he had made the decision to chase this artificial beast, and its pilot…. Only moments ago…

_ No! No, not now! _

_ BROTHERS! _

_ Liquid! _

_ I’ve been waiting for this! _

_ It can’t be. _

_ I’ve been inside this arm all along waiting for the right time to awaken. _

_ You were inside Ocelot? _

_ Yes, a sleeper in the arm of a Patriot spy. _

_ It was you two years ago? _

_ Exactly, I was controlling him! _

_ Snake, it was I who leaked information about Arsenal to your partner and got you out here. _ _   
_ _ “What?” _

_ “You’re the only one that can free me, after all. I’m off to bury the patriots for good!” _

_ “You know where they are? How?” _

_ “Why do you think I chose Ocelot as my host?” _

_ “Liquid, stop this thing!” _

_ “Hey, Snake! You coming?” _

Ray pulled Snake closer until the blur had become a defined, terrifying object. The Metal Gear Ray, currently in its underwater traversal form, resembled a cruise missile or a rocket ship, and was best described as a combination of both. Snake was pulled toward its “back”, but it was impossible for Snake to tell up from down at this point. A hatch opened up and Snake was yanked forcefully inside. He impacted the Ray with his shoulder, and cried out with his last bit of air. The hatch closed, and Snake was trapped inside a compartment of the Metal Gear, with no oxygen… when suddenly the water began to drain. A flashing red light illuminated Snake’s surroundings and at last he could see where he was: A tiny cabin, that could not fit two people, and an uncomfortable metal chair that Snake had just smashed into. The cabin was so small that Snake could not stand up from the chair, as the hatch took up the rest of the space. As the water drained, Snake held his head up and breathed in the lifesaving oxygen. Then, his captor spoke in a strong, proud British accent that was amplified by the Metal Gear’s speakers.

“ I’m glad you decided to join me, brother!”

“LIQUID!”

“Calm down, Snake! It’s because of me that you aren’t floating to the surface with saltwater in your lungs. Following me was a poorly thought out decision, wasn’t it brother?”

“Liquid…”

“And yet here you are, here  _ we _ are, going to track down the Patriots/Philosophers once and for all.”

“I’m going to stop you!”

“Why, Snake? Why would you want to stop your dear brother from exacting revenge against those who wronged not only him, but the entire world? Why would you want to prevent justice?”

“You shouldn’t even be alive!” Snake banged his fists against the walls around him. “You died at Shadow Moses!”

“Ocelot brought me back, Snake. I’ll show you  _ Appolyon _ , the machine he used if there’s time. It was made by the Patriots for their own disgusting purposes. He chose me, brother, because he wanted an arm and hand he could use to fire his Single Action Army revolver. But I chose him, too. I chose him because I needed his knowledge of the Patriots. I needed to know where their main base of operations is, and how to get there. I needed to know how to kill them.”

“Base of operations…?” Snake asked. He could feel the motion as the Metal Gear sped through the depths. There was an ever growing sound of water rushing, all around him.

“Why, that’s exactly where we are going! A secret extra-national base at the bottom of the Ocean known only as H.A.D.E.S. in top secret  _ un _ official documents.”

“Extra-national?”

“Yes, Snake. This is not under the jurisdiction nor control of the American Government, it is an entity without a nationality, loyal only to the Patriots.”

Snake balked. “But the Patriots are dead!”

“Snake! Don’t be so naive. I’m sure that’s just what they would have us believe, brother. Just because the top 12 members of the Patriots are considered to be dead, does not mean their organisation,their  _ ideals _ died with them. And even then, are you really ready to trust a document that could be false? How sure are you, after Ocelot’s revelation in Arsenal that the entire conflict you just went through was nothing but a deliberate, crafted simulation?””

The rushing sound was louder. The speed they moved increased.

“Hold on, Snake!” Liquid’s voice reverberated in Snake’s tiny cabin. “We’ll be in HADES, soon!”

“Hold on to what?” Snake asked, and was answered by belt straps that emerged from the metal seat and latched around Snake’s legs and arms and head. A white foam substance protruded from the walls and in seconds had almost filled the tiny compartment. Snake grunted as the substance encroached on him.

The Metal Gear was going at maximum speed. Snake could hear the faint sound of Liquid monloguing still as the roar of Ray’s engine reached its peak. Snake braced for impact.

Metal scraped against metal and the cabin shook with violent force. Snake tried to yell, but his voice was muffled in the foam. It was like an earthquake, and despite the foam protection it still  _ hurt _ as the Metal Gear crashed into what Snake could only assume was H.A.D.E.S.

Then the Metal Gear stopped.

The cabin was silent. Then, foam pulled itself from Snake as the cabin hatch detached with a twang, and fell from the Metal Gear. Snake heard it clatter to the ground, and he had to shut his eyes as bright white light flooded the cabin. Gruntingly, Snake opened his eyes slowly, one at a time. The source of light was a wall-mounted LED, the kind he would expect to find in a military facility. In the distance Snake could hear boots pounding against metal, as dozens of people surrounded the Metal Gear.

“COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP,” a woman’s voice shouted came from outside. Snake tried to move but he was still strapped to the chair. He twisted and turned, but it was no use. Again the shout came.

“COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS-” the woman’s voice paused. The sound of the metal contracting as the Metal Gear shifted where it lay. Snake tried to listen, but the noises were faint, and there was still a bit of foam in his ears. Then, a single procession of footsteps began to move toward him. Clink, clink, clink. Snake stared, dumbfounded, as Ocelot slowly walked in front of the cabin. He stopped without looking at Snake. Snake narrowed his eyes. Could it be? Ocelot turned and faced Snake. He came closer. Clink, clink.

“Liquid?” Snake asked.

Ocelot threw his head back with laughter, and raised his pistols with both hands.

“Think again,” he snarled in his gravelly voice. Then he opened fire.

BANG BANG

BANG BANG BANG

“ARGH!” Snake cried out in shock, but the bullets didn’t hit him. Instead the straps that kept him in place tore apart as Ocelot’s expert shooting did its job. Snake slumped forward, his body raw with bruises from the crash and exhaustion from the G-force he experienced earlier.

“Your brother isn’t here to welcome you, Snake,” Ocelot sneered. Armed guards appeared from his left and right holding M-19 assault rifles.

“Ocelot…” Snake gasped, the pain finally getting to him. He was in a clump in the wreckage. “Revolver… Ocelot…”

“What should we do with him, Sir?” one of the guards asked. It was the same voice from before.

“Knock him unconscious and take him to the holding cells,” Ocelot said as he twirled his pistols back into their holsters. Snake fumbled in his pockets. He was looking for his cigarettes, but before be could find them the soldier walked forward and smacked him in the face with the butt of her gun.


	2. Chapter 2

Snake felt the familiar sensation of metal around his wrists and ankles. He was going to be tortured, he knew that much for sure. It was too similar to the contraption that Ocelot strapped him into back at Shadow Moses.

“Ocelot…” Snake said aloud, and immediately regretted it. The clink of Ocelot’s boots were too signature to belong to anyone else, and as soon as Snake said the name, the devil himself appeared.

“Don’t worry, Snake,” Ocelot growled as he circled Snake like a shark circles a bleeding seal pup, “I’m not going to… keep you waiting.”

“Ocelot! Why are you doing this!” Snake strained against the metal that bound him, filled with a fresh energy for the truth.

“Why am I doing what, Snake? Why am I recreating Shadow Moses? To create soldiers like you. To create minds like Liquid’s. That’s what this place is, Snake. A place to create an army for the Patriots war.”

Snake was silent.  _ The Patriots are dead _ , he thought.

“Or were you just asking,” Ocelot continued, “Why am I torturing you? Well, that’s a lot easier to answer, Snake. I’m torturing you because I want to. There’s no one on this planet I’d want to torture more, Snake, no one more than the man who’s responsible for the loss of my right hand, the man who made me have to resort to wearing the hand of the troublesome fool, Liquid.”

“Your hand? But - that was Gray Fox!” Snake shouted.

“Ah, yes, but I was only caught off guard because I was fighting you. And besides, Gray Fox was your friend, and he had no problem leaving you unharmed during our encounter. And remember, Snake, Gray Fox is dead. Who else am I to have vengeance upon? Not Gray Fox, not Liquid, only you. Funny you see, you’re the only one who sees the real me, Snake. Liquid thought i was an ally, but I was secretly working for Solidus. Solidus thought I was an ally, too, but I was secretly working for the Patriots. A spy through and through, Snake, and only you know me. You’ve faced me in battle, and you’ve faced me in torture. You know the real Revolver Ocelot!”

“You’re… a mad man…” Snake grunted, and spat on Ocelot’s boot. Ocelot immediately grabbed a nearby lever with his - with Liquid’s - hand, and wrenched it down. Snake’s body was jolted with electricity, not enough to kill him but more than enough to  _ hurt _ . Ocelot wrenched the lever back up, and the machine stopped. He smiled, enjoying Snake’s pain.

“You’re going to regret antagonizing me, Snake. Although I suppose you don’t have much to lose. After all, I’m going to torture you. No. Matter. What.” Ocelot brought his face front and centre to Snake’s. Snake used all his strength to wrench his head forward, colliding his skull with Ocelot’s.

SMACK!

“Urk!” Ocelot yelped and stumbled backwards when Snake’s headbutt connected. Snake chuckled. Small victories were all he had left, and he was damn sure going to enjoy them. But something was wrong. Ocelot was holding his head with both hands, and he still hadn’t recovered from the impact. Snake couldn’t have hit him that hard, surely. And yet… Ocelot remained in the same pose, both hands on his head, shuddering slightly.

“O-Ocelot?” Snake asked.  _ Shouldn’t I be getting tortured some more? _

Ocelot regained compsure. He straightened his back, and lowered his hands. He approached Snake again, this time without a smile. His expression was almost catatonic. He suddenly grabbed Snake by the chin, his index finger and thumb pressed into the sides of his jaw, forcing his mouth open. Then he covered Snake’s open mouth with his other hand.

“I don’t have long, brother,” Liquid spoke softly, “You must pretend I have done nothing”

Snake’s eyes narrowed. He wanted to nod, but Liquid’s grip was too tight. Liquid grimaced, and the expression stuck. Ocelot let out a low snarl, and thrust Snake’s head away from him. For a moment Ocelot looked confused, as if he had just woken up. Then he regained focus.

“Hmmm… Time to torture you some more,” he said, and wrenched down the lever. Snake groaned in pain, but didn’t open his mouth. He jolted from side to side, and felt his strength fading away from him. “What’s wrong, Snake? Cat got your tongue?” Ocelot chuckled. He pulled the lever back into its resting position. “Can you take one more?”

Snake felt his teeth burn in his mouth as the electrical volts charged their way through his nerves, his blood, his bones. It was as if a thousand needles were being forced OUT of his body, as if pain was all there was, and all there ever would be. But he still didn’t open his mouth. Then, as suddenly as it began, the torture stopped.

“Well, that’s enough for now I think,” said Ocelot, and he walked off. Snake slumped his head, and was barely conscious as a pair of guards unhooked him from the machine and dragged him away.

***

Twenty-Seven watched as the guards opened the door and dragged Snake inside. She watched as they left him face down on the floor of the dank metal cell. Large glass windows stretched the width of the wall. There were puddles of water in the corners of the room, and black and green mould made patches on the walls. Twenty-Seven crouched next to the far wall, poised yet patient. The guards left the room. They slammed the door behind them and returned to patrolling outside.

Snake was spent. Aside from his brief stint of unconsciousness, he had been awake and performing espionage for almost three days without rest. He tried supporting himself but his elbows gave way and he hit the floor entirely. His mouth was still shut.

“Who the hell are you?” Twenty-Seven broke the silence. She had moved over to him without a sound, and now was crouched next to him, staring at him. With a groan, Snake moved his head slightly and opened one eye. The prisoner looked gaunt, underfed. She wore baggy cargo pants and a singlet under a jacket that had the number 27 plastered on its sleeves and collar. Her whispy, greasy black hair fell down to her chin, and through the strands Snake could make out the glints of metal studs that were pierced into her forehead. Her green eyes were dark and the skin around them sallow.

“Out with it,” she said. “Talk.’

Snake opened his mouth and with a glob of saliva spat out a small piece of plastic. Then his head made a thunk against the floor, and he was out.


	3. Chapter 3

Twenty-Seven would be getting no information from her fellow prisoner, at least not until Ocelot’s torture had worn off. She knew Ocelot’s torture well, having been subjected to it for… she didn’t know how long. It was easy to lose track of time in a cell with artificial lights. The man on the ground, his 5 o’clock shadow marinating in a pool of his saliva, groaned in his sleep. Twenty-Seven reached into the spit and picked up the piece of plastic. She wiped it on her sleeve before turning it in her hands, studying it, trying to discern its purpose.

“Snake? Brother?” the voice was quiet and tinny, but she heard them. She put the piece of plastic to her ear, and suddenly it was clear. The earpiece sat in her ear perfectly. “Brother, answer me,” the voice said.

"Who the hell is this?" she answered.

"I would ask you the same question, my dear, but I only have so much time," the haughty British voice didn't skip a beat, "is my brother there with you? Legendary soldier, wears a bandana, recently tortured, has a hero complex."

"Unconscious." Twenty-Seven was guarded. Just who the hell was this guy?

"Look, I'm in a bit of a hurry so I'll cut you a deal. Your freedom in exchange for your assistance in getting my brother out of his cage."

Twenty-Seven waited a moment before replying. She had no reason to trust this stranger, but what choice did she have? Still, if they were going to strike deal she was damn sure going to bargain.

"If I help your brother out of this cell, I'll be out as well. That's not so much a deal as it is a result of me helping you. So I'll need more."

"..." a British silence was all she heard. He was waiting.

"I'll need help of my own. Finding my sister. Now tell me your name."

Twenty-Seven could almost hear the smile stretch across his face as the voice slowly replied.

"My name is Liquid, and the man on the ground is my brother, Snake. And yours?"

"Twenty-Seven," she said. "That's what  _ he _ calls me."

"Ah, yes my dear," Liquid replied, "I'm sure he does. Now, listen closely. In the corner of the room you'll find a hidden panel. It is opposite the largest window. Push where the wall is discoloured. The code is 7049."

"Wait, how do you know this?"

"Don't tell me where you're going. Don't try to contact me."

Then he was gone. Twenty-Seven skittered over to the wall and pushed… nothing. She tried again in a different spot, and again, and again, until-

_ Click! _

The hidden panel slid away, revealing a tiny keypad. Twenty-Seven whispered the code as she entered it.

"Seven… zero… four… nine."

And suddenly, the door to her cell was opened.

***

Liquid set the radio transponder down. He could feel himself losing grip on Ocelot's body, feel the Russian spy waking up from Liquid's dream. He closed his eyes and arched his back, enjoying the moments he had of life before returning to the darkness. When Liquid was asleep, he experienced the dream of Ocelot. It was confusing, sometimes hard to remember and always events were scattered and segmented. It had taken months before Liquid was able to discern the code for Ocelot's secret escape out of his own prison. Liquid knew an escape had to exist, that’s why he looked for it inside Ocelot’s dream. Ocelot  _ always _ had a contingency plan. Liquid felt the tug of sleep, the weight of eyelids in the back of his mind pulling him into unconsciousness. With his the last of his strength he pinched the earpiece beneath his fingers.  _ Now Ocelot will have an even harder time tracking them down _ , Liquid thought, as he lost the ability to see. Suddenly, he wasn’t breathing.  _ The plan is in motion _ , he thought as all sound ceased in his world.  _ Snake, it all depends on Snake _ , he thought, and then he could think no more. The only sensation he felt was the twitching of his fingers, the slightest thing.

And he was dreaming.

***

Snake’s head bumped over the door frame as Twenty-Seven dragged his limp body out of the prison and into the corridor. She had waited until the guards’ eyes were elsewhere, but Snake offering nothing but himself as a paperweight was proving to be a major setback. Twenty-Seven tried slapping him again. Nothing.

“You and your brother better be worth my time,” she said, sucking in air as she pulled him by his legs with all her might. She opened the door closest to her, marked "Supplies". Down the corridor, the closest guard yawned and spun on his heel. He was about to make his return journey. Quickly, Twenty-Seven hoisted Snake up and their combined weight pushed the door open… and made a solid thump on the ground that echoed along the metal.

"Hey, I think I heard something!" said the closest guard.

"Then go and check it out," replied the other.

Twenty-Seven had no choice, she had to hide. The supplies room offered some options: a pile of crates to the left of the door, a row of storage lockers, a low-hanging ventilation shaft. But she had to hide Snake, too. She half dragged, half rolled the legendary Solid Snake to the corner of the room behind the pile of crates, where she hoped he wouldn't be found. But if he was? He was basically lying in the open, and if Twenty-Seven were a guard that would be the first place she would check.

"A plan…" she hissed. She threw open the closest storage locker and thanked lady luck there was room enough for her. She climbed in, organised her limbs, and gently shut the locker… just as the guard opened the door to the room. Twenty-Seven stared at him through gaps in the locker door.

"Hey,” said the guard, “who’s in here?"

Twenty-Seven tried to control her breathing, but the sight of the guard brandishing his AK-47 with impunity gave her a panicky weight in her chest. If he were to find Snake, it would be up to her to act. Would she attack? Flee? Remain hidden in the hopes the guard gave up his search?

"Hey!” The voice came from outside. “The prisoners! They're gone!"

The guard in front of the locker heard his comrade’s cry. "Alright. Now I  _ know _ you're here," he said, and took a step closer to Twenty-Seven's hiding place. "And I know just where you are…"

He reached out a hand and grasped the locker door. He twisted the handle and Twenty-Seven tensed her whole body, coiled, ready. The guard swung open the locker and Twenty-Seven… froze.

"!" said the guard, "I got you-" he was suddenly cut short, out of breath, as his throat was constricted by the muscled, latexed arms of the Legendary Solid Snake. The guard made a series of grunts before collapsing in Snake's vice-like grip, unconscious. Twenty-Seven slowly stepped out of the locker, uncoiling herself.

"H-how did you do that?" she said. "I didn't even see you get up from behind the crates."

Snake looked at her, bandana flowing free, "We'll only survive this by utilizing stealth. You didn't see me because I crawled along the ground."

"Like a-"

"Caterpillar," Snake cut her off. He paused, and Twenty-Seven saw his grimace shift to a grin. "You had the right idea," Snake accused, "hiding in the locker. But you made a rookie mistake. With no where else for you to go, the guard would've looked in the locker eventually no matter what."

Suddenly, a voice called from outside. “Hey, where’d you go? Did you find anything?”

“Another guard…” Snake stuck a finger out, pointing at Twenty-Seven's face. "Get back in the locker, now!"

“But you said-”

“Now.” Snake growled. Twenty-Seven balked, speechless, but nevertheless stepped back into the locker, coiled herself up, and slowly closed the door. Through the small gaps Twenty-Seven watched as Snake positioned himself on the other side of the door, spreading himself flat against the metal wall and waiting, unmoving, as the second guard entered the room.

“Holy shit!” the guard exclaimed, “There’s a body here!” and Snake was on him. He through a punch which caught the guard in his jaw, then with his other hand uppercutted the man’s weapon, sending it flying out of his hands and spinning across the room. Then came Snake’s kick, a full roundhouse that connected with the man’s skull and sent him cartwheeling face-first into the ground. Snake stood over the body of the second guard, still poised for action. He delivered a cautionary kick to the man’s side, who did not get back up.

“Holy shit…” said Twenty-Seven. She stepped out of the locker.

“I wasn’t finished,” Snake said, back turned. “Getting into the locker was a mistake… but I was here to help. When you have a co-operative force in the mix, the mechanics of stealth change entirely. Splitting up and hiding in two different spots so that any solo guard can be ambushed by your comrade… that’s a helluva good plan...” Snake turned to Twenty-Seven, cigarette lit up between his teeth, “Great job. Even if you didn’t mean it.”

There was silence between them. Twenty-Seven’s shock morphed into determination, and she nodded. “Partners,” she said.

“Partners,” Snake agreed. “Now let’s see where that vent leads.”


	4. Chapter 4

Liquid had no memory of Ocelot retrieving his arm… until he dreamed through Ocelot's eyes. Ocelot's dream contained images. Images of a sterilized briefcase called in via a patriot supply drop. Images of Liquid's arm severed and placed in the case. Images of Ocelot on a journey to HADES. When Liquid awoke from the dream, his first sight was of a computer screen that read:  _ 75% Compatibility _ . Liquid felt Ocelot's happiness here, such a high compatibility rating meant his arm would be viable for shooting… but Liquid soon learned that such high compatibility flowed both ways. Ocelot found himself sleepwalking, some nights ordering subordinates to do strange things, to tell him things he should already know. Ocelot once woke up in the middle of a guard's detailed explanation of the Appolyon machine. He shot the guard dead, angry, confused, and Liquid relished every moment of it. On the tanker, Liquid took the opportunity to wreak chaos upon Ocelot's plans and leak information to Otacon and Snake. Liquid learned that when Ocelot knew about the possession it became even easier to take control. Like a cause, Liquid's dream became stronger when Ocelot believed in him. Ocelot began to take countermeasures. Ocelot used a deep sleep concoction prepared by a fellow Patriot spy named Ire to prevent Liquid's midnight hours. He also implemented a taser, attacking Liquid's dream at its source: his arm. But Liquid simply waited, waited and learned more until he knew exactly when the time was right to make his move.

That time was now.

***

As Snake and Twenty-Seven stuffed one of the guards into the empty locker and left the other dozing behind the stack of crates, Snake provided an abridged account of his story so far, from defeating Liquid at Shadow Moses to learning that Liquid had orchestrated his arrival at the Big Shell.

“Wait,” Twenty-Seven said, “There was a vampire?”

“Ugh,” grunted Snake, “Something like that… Anyway it doesn’t matter now. He’s dead… I think.” Snake held out his hand, revealing the guards' radio earpieces and two Level 1 access keycards. “I found these on the guards. If we change the frequencies, we should be able to communicate to each other without anyone listening in. The keycards should get us into low-security areas."

“Right,” Twenty-Seven said, taking it all in. “Earpieces. Keycards. And you followed Liquid into the ocean, because he asked you to... And then he saved you. Be honest with me Snake, are you here to stop him, or help him?”

Snake picked up one of the AK-47’s off the floor. He checked the magazine, sights and slide before loading it and slinging it over his shoulder. “I’m here to stop Ocelot.” he finally replied. “Whatever he and the Patriot’s are up to, it isn’t good. But what about you?”

“What about me?” Twenty-Seven retrieved a pistol from the dozing guard. She strapped the man’s belt and holster around her waist.

“Why are you here?” Snake said, moving toward her. “Ugh, do you even know how to use that thing?”

Twenty-Seven looked him dead in the eye. She released the magazine, caught it, checked the ammo and reloaded. She chambered a round and twirled the gun in her hand before holstering. “I’m here to save my sister.”

Snake scoffed. “Pretty handy with a gun for someone who froze under pressure. Who trained you to use a gun, but not to use CQC?”

“I’ve watched a lot of movies,” Twenty-Seven said. She didn't address her freezing. “What’s CQC?”

“Close Quarters Combat. You would know what that was if you’d been trained. Just be careful with that thing, okay? Only point it at something you wanna kill.”

“Sure, Snake.”

“So, Twenty-Seven, you know my name, what’s yours? Why hide behind the number on your jacket?”

“I don’t know what else to call myself,” she said. “I don’t know my name. I’ve lost a lot of memories, since they brought me here… since he started taking things from me.”

“By ‘he’, you mean Ocelot,” Snake concluded, “He tortured you.”

Twenty-Seven nodded. “After my sister went missing, I tried to track down the Patriot’s. I’m into computers, and I spent a lot of time on the deep web… at least, I think I did. I found people talking in code on an underground server, and I think it was a Patriot message. They were talking about her, my sister, and mentioned someone called ‘Ocelot’. I tracked where they were communicating from, a condemned office building in Delaware, and I drove there overnight. But when I got there…” 

“Hrrrh,” said Snake, “So you’re a hacker.”

“Something like that,” Twenty-Seven continued, "They knew I was looking for them. They led me to Delaware on purpose, and he…  _ Ocelot _ was waiting for me. I don’t remember much after that… they must have knocked me out. I woke up strapped to Ocelot’s machine.”

Snake grimaced. He knew what came next.

"He tortured me. Day after day, for God knows how long. I lost track of time. At first I tried keeping a tally on the wall, but it grew without me adding to it. I thought it might be the guards playing a cruel trick, but then I realised… I was losing memories… stretches of time. I couldn’t remember the things I wrote on the wall. Then one day I woke up and couldn't remember my parent's faces. Now I don't even know my own name." Twenty-Seven sighed. She ran her fingers over her forehead studs.

"Sorry," Snake said. “We’ll stop Ocelot, for you, and for everyone else he’s hurt.”

"Thanks, Snake." Twenty-Seven recomposed herself. Her hand rested on her gun.

“And your sister?" Snake asked, "She’s here?”

“The way Ocelot talked about her… I think she is.”

“Then when we stop him…” Snake stood atop a crate and opened the vent, “we’ll ask him where to find her.”

***

The vent was cleaner than Twenty-Seven had expected, and large enough that she didn’t feel too constricted crawling through, although she had nothing to look at but Snake’s ass in the darkness as it twisted itself through the metal tunnel. She tried to favour her left side, as the holster on her right made a loud clinking, but when that became tiresome she twisted the holster around so it stayed on her back. Occasionally the tunnel would turn, left then right again, as they made their way through corridors and storerooms of HADES. Sometimes they would find themselves overhead a guard on patrol, looking through slits in the vent, looking for any information they could find.

“Remember,” Snake said quietly, “If you find any schematics of this place, get them so I can synchronise them to my soliton radar.”

They continued on for a time, until finally the space opened up so the two of them could lie next to each other. The space was a large prism intersection for the vents, with four different passageways leading away, including the way they came.

“Look,” said Snake. He was glaring down through a vent, and the brightness of the room below created lines of light on his face. Twenty-Seven crawled up next to him, and took in the sight.

The room below looked like a manager’s office, complete with a large desk, chair, and a set of bookshelves along the walls. There was even a potted plant in the corner, next to the door. A series of certifications were framed and hung around the room, but the details were too fine to discern from the vent. A man stood over the desk, a sprawl of paperwork before him. He was old, with short cropped grey hair and olive military fatigues that looked as faded and worn out as he did. He carried an old American assault rifle, different to the one Snake had taken off the guard in the supply room. It was difficult to see from their vantage point, but something seemed… off about the way his skin hung from his face. Behind him, a woman entered the room. She was wearing an open trench coat with nothing underneath, and a pair of red leather pants that flared out at the ankles. Her bald head was adorned with a silver head chain that held a topaz at its center, just above her dark eyes. She was twirling a knife in her hand, occasionally tossing it back and forth.

“She looks… familiar,” said Snake.

“Shh,” said Twenty-Seven, and Snake grunted into silence.

“Knock, knock,” the woman sang.

“Oh, it’s you,” said the old man, begrudging and gruff. “Is the serum complete?”

“Mottle, did you doubt me for a second?” the woman answered. She revealed from her trenchcoat a large syringe full of green liquid and tossed it to him. Mottle caught the serum, shot her a dirty look, and tucked it away in his fatigues.

“How many do you have?”

“Enough for us, Ocelot, the Weatherman, and Theseus. And one more. Just in case.”

“And the guards?” Mottle asked with a dirty look.

The woman chuckled. “We can always get more guards.” She handed a second serum to Mottle. “Take this and give it to Ocelot, I’ll see to the others. And when you see Ocelot… tell him to give the man who killed my brother an extra dose of shock treatment, from me.”

“I’m sure Ocelot’s already turned his brain to mush,” said Mottle, “He always loved his work. As much as you do, Ire.” He walked past Ire and left the room. As soon as he did, Twenty-Seven felt Snake’s breath in her ear.

“Follow the woman when she leaves,” he growled, “Find out what that Serum is for, and try to get your hands on it. I’ll follow  _ Mottle _ ... he’ll lead me straight to Ocelot.” Before Twenty-Seven could respond, Snake was crawling away, pausing at each gap in the vent to track his mark. He disappeared around a bend. Below her, Ire was examining the paperwork that Mottle had been working on.

“Always a stickler for rosters, Mottle,” Ire said to herself. She flicked the knife into the table where it stuck by the point, then she picked up a pen. She crossed out a name and then filled the name somewhere else. “I’ll take  _ this  _ one for myself,” she said, and Twenty-Seven felt sick to her stomach. Something about this woman felt wrong.

***

Snake was in pursuit. Mottle moved at a standard pace but Snake was crawling, so he had to work twice as hard to compensate and keep up. It helped that Mottle seemed intent on stopping at every guard he encountered, either to admonish or commend.

"Excellent posture, soldier," he said to one guard as Snake tried to both quickly and quietly catch up. "Polish your shoes," he said to another, as Snake was grateful his sneaking suit was designed for all environments, as exerting himself in the vent was getting HOT.

"Sir, yes sir! Thank you, sir!" came the soldiers' response each time. He'd trained them doggedly, Snake thought, even if they did come across as sycophantic and robotic. Snake's own training under Master Miller had started out as stringent, but soon became more personal. As Snake honed his abilities, Miller did away with formalities like saluting, although Snake still insisted on calling him "Master" due to his respect for Miller's Japanese heritage. When once they were merely teacher and student, by the time they worked together in Zanzibar Land, they were friends.

A dead end brought Snake back to reality, as Mottle went left but the vent only went right. Snake moved as fast as his muscular thighs would allow until he found what he wanted - an empty room to leave the vent.

***

As Ire closed the door behind her, Twenty-Seven landed on her feet in the office. Snake had told her to follow Ire, but Twenty-Seven wanted a closer look at the roster Ire had altered. She peered at the paperwork, and the first thing her eyes were drawn to was the thick black line drawn straight through the name "Silent Jaguar". Most of the names were like that, an adjective followed by an animal, and Twenty-Seven's eyes glazed over most of them. In handwriting different to the rest of the roster, Silent Jaguar was now listed under guard duty for "R&D". At the top of the R&D list was Ire herself. The numbered subcategories next to her name were higher than anyone else on that list. Twenty-Seven perused further, looking for any names that might trigger her memory. She saw Theseus and Ocelot under "Intelligence" and Weatherman under "Support", but nothing indicated her or her sister. She scooped up the paperwork, hoping it might come in handy later, and folded it into her jacket. Crouching by the door, Twenty-Seven peaked out to see if Ire was nearby. She was gone.

"Damn, Snake's gonna be pissed," Twenty-Seven muttered to herself. Then she saw it - a series of coloured lines on the floor, snaking in different directions, down corridors, left and right. Quickly, she pulled the roster from her jacket and re-examined the title headings. The colour of R&D was yellow, and one of the lines matched. It trailed to the left of the office, the opposite direction Snake had crawled through the vents pursuing Mottle, but Twenty-Seven had no other choice. She climbed back into the vent using the desk as a step, and headed for R&D.

***

Snake choked out a guard in the bathroom and hid his body in a stall. He locked the door and crawled out. With one less guard on patrol, doubling back to follow Mottle would be easier, but Snake still practiced caution. The corridors in this area were bare, making stealth difficult, so Snake took his time. He finally found the door Mottle had gone through (which required a level 1 access card) but there was a guard patrolling the corridor. Snake lingered around the corner for the guard to continue his route, and waited an extra few seconds to ensure guard had moved on. Then Snake moved to the door. His heart rate increased. Entering a new room blind was something he had to take slowly - he had no idea what awaited him on the other side - but at the same time his number would be up the moment that guard returned down the corridor. He scanned his keycard, stayed low, and inched the door open.

The room was small, about half the size of the office from before, and one wall was mostly a window that stopped at a wall-mounted desk with an assortment of computers and monitoring equipment. From his low perspective, Snake could see the top of Ocelot's torture device through the window and it occurred to him that he was in some kind of observation room. Next to the window was Mottle, facing away from Snake toward a door that separated the two halves of the room. Mottle scanned his keycard, and the "2" on the door turned green as the door slid open. Snake took the opportunity. With the noise Mottle made, Snake was able to enter the room and close the door behind him practically silently. He crouched under the wall mounted desk until the second door closed behind Mottle. Snake needed a visual. He hesitated, trying to remember his own torture… past the pain of it… and then calmly stood up. He had seen a reflection of himself in Ocelot's torture chamber.

"A one way mirror..." Snake muttered to himself. On the other side, Ocelot was taking one of the serums from Mottle.

"You didn't have come all this way," Ocelot said. He seemed distracted, as if his mind was otherwise occupied. Snake had never seen him like this, a quiet Ocelot, a thinking Ocelot. He'd never stopped to think what the man might be like around allies, behind closed doors, but he was seeing it now.

"Ire asked me…" Mottle paused, his disdain for the woman evident, "to tell you to make Snake's life hell. Although, I'm sure you already ha-"

"The snake escaped his cage," Ocelot said suddenly. "The guards were found unconscious. He set the girl free as well."

Mottle immediately began speaking into his earpiece, ordering his men to begin a basewide search. He unslung his assault rifle and readied himself. He asked Ocelot, "How did they escape?"

"Snake used a method only I know… which means I know who told him. So…" Ocelot paced slowly, back and forth before his machine. "I know who to torture. Go, Mottle, track them down but remember: don't kill the girl."

Mottle nodded. He saluted, something Snake found strange, then headed back to the door. Snake ducked back under the desk as Mottle jogged through the observation room. When he was gone, Snake looked back at Ocelot - only to see Ocelot looking right back!

"I know you're there…" Ocelot said, staring at him. Snake instinctively equipped his AK-47 and pointed it at Ocelot, but the spy didn't flinch, or duck, or respond at all. No… Ocelot couldn't see Snake… Ocelot was staring… at his  _ own reflection _ .

"I know you're there," he said again, " _ Liquid _ ." Ocelot turned around, and to Snake's abject surprise he began strapping himself in to his own machine. He strapped his right hand and foot in with his left hand. "I can allow you to surface if I want, Liquid," Ocelot snarled, "I know you can hear me."

For a moment, the gravelly voice was gone, replaced by Snake's brother. "Ocelot, how nice of you to let me out!" Liquid immediately reached for his restraints, but Ocelot stopped him. Instead, Ocelot reached for the lever. He pulled it down, and Ocelot and Liquid screamed out in pain as electricity scorched through their body. He pulled the lever back up, breathing raspy breaths.

"I know you told Snake how to escape," Ocelot accused his reflection, "Now you're going to tell me where he went."

"Ocelot you traitor," Liquid said as he recoiled from the shock, although his smugness returned, "I didn't tell Snake how to escape. Honest."

Snake grunted as Ocelot pulled the lever again, he watched as his brother threw his head back anguish, and he felt an emotion he didn't expect as he watched Ocelot torture Liquid.

Anger.

Ocelot released the lever. His eyes were bloodshot and his fingers were shaking.

"Don't act like you're not enjoying this," Liquid gasped through tears, "I know you are. You're a sick man, you always were."

"Shut up!" Ocelot slapped himself in the face, "Tell me where he is!"

Liquid started laughing, as boisterous he could muster through his distress. "Shut up or tell you? Make up your mind, comrade."

Ocelot pulled the lever down again. Liquid's face contorted into a shape of agony, twisted and twitching. The veins on his left arm bulged and smoke billowed where his skin seared.

"Tell me… Liquid…" Ocelot hissed through gritted teeth. "Or I'll…  _ burn you out of me _ ."

"No!" Snake yelled. He raised his AK-47 and opened fire. The bullets carved a hole in the glass, and Ocelot and Liquid looked to the mirror in surprise as it shattered around them. On the other side, Snake took aim at his enemy.

"Snake!" Liquid said with glee. Snake didn't fire.

"SNAAAAAAAAKE!" Ocelot roared with fury- but he was kept in place by his own restraint. Ocelot fumbled with the latch as Liquid laughed maniacally and batted his arm away. Snake's eyes were wide. His target, his sworn enemy, was right there in front of him, vulnerable. He could end this now. But he didn't do it. Instead, he lowered his gun and fired at the base of the machine - the power source! A surge of energy made the lights in the room flicker and die. Outside an alarm sounded. The base of the machine burst into flame.

"Get out of here Snake!" Liquid shouted over the blaring noise, "You know my frequency!" Snake didn't waste any time. He ran from the room and down the corridor, and the boots of HADES guards pounded after him.


	5. Chapter 5

CODEC CALL

TWENTY-SEVEN

Snake? Snake? Dammit is this thing working?

SNAKE

I read you.

TWENTY-SEVEN

Why is there an alarm going off? Did they find out we escaped?

SNAKE

Yeah… and… I fired a few rounds.

TWENTY-SEVEN

Oh.

SNAKE

...

TWENTY-SEVEN   
I didn’t follow Ire, at all.

SNAKE

What?!

TWENTY-SEVEN

Hey! At least I didn't set off a base-wide alarm!

SNAKE

Hrrh… Fine, we’ll call it even.

TWENTY-SEVEN

Good. Now, I stole Mottle’s roster. There’s a lot of information here, Snake.

SNAKE

Like?

TWENTY-SEVEN

Well, I’m not on it. Neither is my sister. So that’s… some kind of information.

SNAKE

Did you find anything useful?

TWENTY-SEVEN

I know Ire works in R&D.

SNAKE

R&D… Research and Development…

TWENTY-SEVEN

Yeah! I knew that! I’m going there now to see what I can find out.

SNAKE

I’ll make my way over there too.

TWENTY-SEVEN

Follow the Yellow Line, Snake, that should lead you to R&D from wherever you are now.

SNAKE

Handy...

TWENTY-SEVEN

I have my moments.

SNAKE

Hey, Twenty-Seven? 

TWENTY-SEVEN

Yeah, Snake?

SNAKE

Did you have any luck remembering your name?

TWENTY-SEVEN

No… although I did have a theory about it.

SNAKE

A theory?

TWENTY-SEVEN

A lot of my memory is missing, but a lot of facts and trivia is still there, floating around. Of all the numbers to choose… My first guess was that it was just the prisoner number. But… I’m the only prisoner here. Thing is, the number twenty-seven has significance in popular culture.

SNAKE

Popular culture?

TWENTY-SEVEN

A whole lot of famous musicians, actors and other celebrities have died at the age of twenty-seven. It’s like a curse. They call it the 27 Club.

SNAKE

Are you saying you might be cursed?

TWENTY-SEVEN

I thought it might be my age, actually. I’m just glad my memory’s coming back.

SNAKE

Keep it coming.

TWENTY-SEVEN

Say… how old are you, Snake?

SNAKE

I’m thirty-seven.

TWENTY-SEVEN

Holy sh-

SNAKE

Hrhhh…

TWENTY-SEVEN

You’re  _ old _ .

SNAKE

...

TWENTY-SEVEN

Hey, at least you’re not cursed.

END CALL

***

Twenty-Seven was grateful to be hidden as countless guards charged back and forth beneath her after Snake had rustled the hive. She made her way through the vents following the yellow line throughout HADES until finally she saw in big yellow letters: R&D. Twenty-Seven approached still from above, crossing over the keycard level 3 threshold via the convenient vents. Another maze lay before her with no yellow line to lead the way, but soon it became clear her path through the vents was at an impasse as each path eventually turned back on itself. Twenty-Seven realised the vents in R&D were an insular, closed system. The only way further into R&D was to go down, into the corridors themselves.  _ But first, _ she thought,  _ I'll need a keycard _ . She imagined Snake's earnest lecturing voice.

"An essential element of a stealth mission is to know your way out," he would say. "Always have an exit strategy."

Twenty-Seven peaked her head out of the ventilation shaft opening closest to the nearest bathroom. She ducked back in as guards ran past - she would have to time this well, and be lucky too.  _ You can do this _ , she thought. She dropped to the metal ground, not stopping to wince at the clang she made, and ducked into the bathroom. Inside she heard singing - a guard was facing away from her, using one of the urinals and idley humming the Encounter theme. This was her mark, but Twenty-Seven remembered freezing in the closet. It was time for her to prove herself.

Twenty-Seven moved her feet slowly across the ground and equipped her sidearm. She raised the pistol and pressed the cold barrel against the back of the man's neck just under his helmet. The humming stopped.

"Move, scream, die." Twenty-Seven whispered.

"Okay," the man said. There was a pause.

"You can zip yourself up," Twenty-Seven permitted. The guard did. "Now give me your access keycard."

"You'll get caught," the guard said, although he did as he was told, "She'll smell you from a mile away."

Twenty-Seven reached with her other hand to the guard's keycard and pocketed it. "Like you did, huh?" she grinned.  _ Snake would be proud _ , she thought.

"She's not like me," he said, "She's not like normal people."

"Ire?" Twenty-Seven shifted her grip on the gun, not letting its pressure leave the man's neck. She tried to sound aloof, but couldn't shake the memory of how Ire made her skin crawl. "What's so special about her?"

"I've seen her take down men twice her size without breaking a sweat," he said. Twenty-Seven could hear him smiling. "I've seen her move across a room in the blink of an eye. And everyone knows if you get assigned to her division, there's a chance you're not coming back."

"Why not?"

"Screw you, I'm not telling you shit."

"Fine," Twenty-Seven sighed, spun her pistol around and brought the butt down on his head.

SMACK!

The doors to R&D slid open. Twenty-Seven moved forward in a crouch, her gun ready; she would not freeze under pressure again.

R&D was a sprawling, open space that stretched the length of an olympic swimming pool with ceilings the height of an aircraft hanger.

Throughout the space were large workbenches covered in tools, half-formed machinery, inoperative computer screens and vials of chemicals.

In the centre of R&D was a cylindrical contraption that looked like an oil tank stood upright. On its side its name,  _ APPOLYON _ , was emblazoned in white military block text. Like a room within a room, its doors were sealed and Twenty-Seven couldn't see inside.  _ APPOLYON  _ stood out like a sore thumb, but what caught Twenty-Seven's attention was at the far end of R&D an upraised dais dedicated a large control board was attached to a gigantic monitor with data and operational functions scrolling across the screen… because Ire stood at the console with her back to Twenty-Seven. She was staring at the screen, eyes whipping back and forth across, taking in all of the information. Twenty-Seven didn't begin to guess what it might all mean. She just knew this woman was a danger, a threat, and if she didn't take advantage of her position…  _ I might not be able to react _ . The thought, the feeling, held in Twenty-Seven's chest, her heart beating louder with every step closer to Ire. They were the only two people in R&D, Twenty-Seven assumed the rest had chased after Snake's recklessness. Ire remained still, transfixed on the screen. Twenty-Seven held her breath as she inched toward the base of the dais. She put her foot on the first step. Ire was unnaturally still. Twenty-Seven remembered the guards words.

_ She'll smell you. _

Ire didn't make a sound. Twenty-Seven couldn't even hear her breathing, especially not over the sound of her own heart pounding in her ears. Ire's head tilted slightly to the left, and Twenty-Seven froze.

_ I won't freeze again _ , she thought. Then Twenty-Seven aimed her pistol at Ire and fired. The shot cracked and echoed throughout the empty space as the bullet caught the back of Ire's skull. Her head dipped forward and her legs crumpled, and her head smacked the console on her way to the floor.

*

Snake was crawling through a secret passageway he'd found in the floor when he heard the gunshot, to his left. He wasted no time making an immediate path to the source of the noise…

*

Twenty-Seven lowered the smoking gun. Ire's body lay on the floor of the dais and a pool of blood was forming beneath it. She walked up the steps and holstered her pistol. Ire was dead. Twenty-Seven gave the body a soft kick - just in case - then she turned her attention to the looming monitor.

Numbers, names, none of it meant anything to her. She sighed with disappointment. She would find no answers here.

"There she is!" yelled a voice from the far end of R&D. Twenty-Seven whirled around and drew her pistol. The guard who yelled raised his assault rifle and fired, shattering the screen behind Twenty-Seven. Glass scattered all around her as she lined up her shot. BANG, BANG. The guard fell dead. Twenty-Seven let out a gasping laugh of relief and surprise… She was good at this. She looked at her once again smoking gun with admiration, what a wonderful tool it was, an extension of herself and manifestation of her will.

The far door slid open, and a whole squad of guards rushed into the room. Two crouched in front and two spread out behind in a defensive formation as a fifth person entered R&D.

He was seven foot tall and wore a patchy, mustard yellow blazer, burgundy dress pants, and brown leather gloves. The guards moved with him, responding to his steps, as he outstretched his arms and flashed a dazzling white smile that Twenty-Seven could see all the way across the warehouse.

The Weatherman.

"I'm afraid your forecast is grim," he announced, gesticulating grandly. He spoke with the cadence and confidence of a professional MC, projecting his voice across the room in a proud baritone.

"With four expertly trained guards guiding a cacophony," he gestured to himself with a grin, "of concentrated thunderstorms, high winds and scorching heat directly to your location, I'd say your chances of survival are low at best."

Twenty-Seven had ducked behind the console on the dais, and peered out to see the Weatherman's aura become a vortex of swirling wind - his guards seemed unaffected, but paper and stationery from nearby R&D tables went flying.

She yelled out "I killed the woman, Ire! I'll kill you too!"

"Did you now?" The Weatherman laughed. Twenty-Seven looked to the spot where Ire had fallen. Her body was  _ gone _ . Twenty-Seven's stomach sank, and her hands started shaking. Ire was gone.  _ How _ ? Twenty-Seven felt like she was back in the locker, frozen, as all she had accomplished in her attack on R&D came apart around her. Then a lightning bolt struck the console. Twenty-Seven was thrown from the dais by the blast and sprawled on the ground. She was paralysed for a moment as the electricity coursed through her body, and her gun went off as her grip involuntarily spasmed. She'd kept a grip on her gun, however, and once her control returned she hurriedly crawled behind the closest workstation. The warehouse was filled with noise now, as the lightning's flames spread over the dais and the Weatherman's vortex grew in size and fury. He raised his right hand and pointed at the dark storm that swirled impossibly above him.

"Some chance of lightning!"

Twenty-Seven could barely hear his report, she could only watch in horror as he summoned another lightning bolt. It struck close, and Twenty-Seven flinched as a nearby workstation exploded. She raised her pistol and fired, but her bullets only struck the vortex of office and lab equipment which had created a defensive barrier for the Weatherman.  _ The eye of the storm, _ thought Twenty-Seven,  _ that's the only place I'll be lethal. _

The Weatherman's guards moved in. Twenty-Seven aimed her weapon, but bullets ricocheted around her. She ducked back behind cover. Her strands of hair, wet from sweat and stress hung over her metal studs as metal hailed down around her. She took a deep breath, stared at the gun in her hands. The reality of her situation set in: she was trapped. With two of the guards to her left and two to her right, Twenty-Seven was caught in a pincer move of which she could see no escape. Their footsteps became audible as they encroached even closer to her position. A pellet of rain hit Twenty-Seven on the cheek, and she looked up to see the edge of the dark storm above her, violently tearing at the ceiling of R&D. She cocked her gun. Left or right? This was it. But if she was going to die, she would go down fighting, not frozen in fear. She leaned left around her cover and opened fire - a slew of bullets hit the closest guard and she fell down in a bloody heap. Then Twenty-Seven heard an awful sound.

*CLICK*

She was out.

"Ammo's drying up to our East," declared the Weatherman, "With a chance of death!"

Twenty-Seven closed her eyes, ready for-

"Enough!" A raspy voice called from behind her, on the other side of R&D. "I told you I need the girl alive, Weatherman."

The Weatherman grimaced and the slick grin vanished from his face. The storm subsided, the dark clouds wilted down like a dying flower, and its contents went clattering all around. The storm was gone as quickly as it had been conjured, leaving the Weatherman looking irked.

"A spoilsport is on the horizon," The Weatherman sighed. A clinking echoed through the tension as Ocelot walked toward Twenty-Seven, his arms outstretched in a warm welcome.


	6. Chapter 6

CODEC CALL

SNAKE

Twenty-Seven, I'm investigating gunfire. Where are you?

TWENTY-SEVEN

That was me.

SNAKE

! What happened? Are you wounded?

TWENTY-SEVEN

No, not yet. It was my gunfire. Ire… Snake… I shot her in the head.

SNAKE

Hrrhh… first time taking a life is different for everyone…

TWENTY-SEVEN

But Snake, I don't think I killed her. I did, but she didn't stay dead. Her body… it's gone, vanished. But I definitely hit her, it was at point blank range.

SNAKE

What?! How is that possible? Wait…

TWENTY-SEVEN

What is it? You've seen this before?

SNAKE

Strangely enough, I have seen a man survive a direct headshot… only once. His name was Vamp… Ire mentioned she had a brother, she accused me of killing him, right?

TWENTY-SEVEN

That's right.

SNAKE

That explains her powers. She's cut from the same cloth as the bastard that killed Emma. But I didn’t even kill him! That was Raiden. This must have to do with the machine Liquid Ocelot was talking about… APPOLYON.

TWENTY-SEVEN

I can ask them, if you like.

SNAKE

Huh? Hey, where are you?

TWENTY-SEVEN

I'm in R&D. I'm surrounded by guards, the Weatherman, and Ocelot.

SNAKE

The Weatherman? Ocelot!?

TWENTY-SEVEN

I know. He's walking toward me. He said he needs me alive.

SNAKE

He said something like that to Mottle… "Don't kill the girl."

TWENTY-SEVEN

Well it can't be for anything good, Ocelot only cares about himself.

SNAKE

Twenty-Seven… Liquid's in there too…

TWENTY-SEVEN

I won't hurt him, Snake. I'm out of ammo.

SNAKE

I have an idea.

TWENTY-SEVEN

I'm listening, but he's getting closer.

SNAKE

Have you ever seen “The Lord of the Rings”?

TWENTY-SEVEN

"The Lord of the Rings"?

SNAKE

"The Lord of the Rings". It’s been a global phenomenon ever since its release a few years ago.

TWENTY-SEVEN

I- I know what it is, Snake, I'm just struggling to see the relevance.

SNAKE

Well, there’s a character that features prominently in the second film, "The Two Towers", named Smeagol, or Gollum.

TWENTY-SEVEN

You don't strike me as someone with in-depth knowledge on fantasy films.

SNAKE

...Meryl made me watch it. I think it accurately depicts what’s going on between Ocelot and Liquid: two minds, one body.

TWENTY-SEVEN

Snake there's no time for this! What's your point?

SNAKE

I think we can use Liquid to our advantage, against Ocelot and the rest of H.A.D.E.S. If you're able to goad Liquid out, rile him up, say the right thing and you can pull his mind to the surface, out from under Ocelot's, it should give you an opportunity to escape.

TWENTY-SEVEN

Alright, I'll try. How do I piss him off?

SNAKE

Say something about me.

END CALL

Ocelot stood over the crouching Twenty-Seven. He smiled, and extended a hand. He hadn't even drawn his revolver.

"Girl, why are you so scared?"

Twenty-Seven didn't take his hand. She glanced for a moment at the Weatherman, who had taken a seat at one of the intact workstations, apparently bored.

"Oh, him?" Ocelot gleamed. "Do you like him? I created him."

The Weatherman scoffed, and flicked sparks from his fingertips. Twenty-Seven stared as Ocelot monologued.

"I created him using  _ APPOLYON _ ," Ocelot paced around and gestured to the large cylindrical contraption, "the Patriot machine that allowed the fusion of Liquid's arm and soul to me. He was merely a guard, an ordinary man, but then I fused him with elemental properties taken from one of the Pacific Ocean's many ferocious lightning storms… and there you have the result."

"Yesterday's news," replied the Weatherman.

Twenty-Seven shot a dirty look at the smug weatherman.

"Of course, nobody's perfect," Ocelot smirked, " _ APPOLYON _ requires pre-existing compatibility for fusion. For example, Liquid and I had an unprecedented 75% compatibility. Unfortunately for the Weatherman, the diminished compatibility of lightning and man combined with years of lightning experimentation and accidental electrical shocks may have done long term psychological damage resulting in some… eccentricities."

Suddenly, Twenty-Seven laughed, " _ He's _ eccentric?"

Ocelot shrugged. "Yes, yes, pot, kettle, I know. Now, let's get you back to your cell."

Twenty-Seven's heart beat extra hard. She couldn't go back, she  _ wouldn't _ . It was time to act, like she had when she had the drop on Ire. It wasn't enough to not freeze up once: she had to act every moment to make it out of here and she knew it.

"Snake told me how to escape. He got me out once, he'll do it again.”

Ocelot’s smirk faded. “My men and I…” he said slowly. He seemed confused, and his eye kept twitching. “My men... and I will stop him…”

“Just like you stopped him at Shadow Moses?” Twenty-Seven accused, “He told me how he defeated Liquid and escaped capture time and time again.”

“You don’t… girl…” Ocelot was fading. His right hand, Liquid’s hand,  _ clenched _ .

“My dear,” said Liquid, a twisted expression stretching across his stolen face, “You mustn't spread such disinformation.”

The Weatherman’s guards noticed the change, but it was already too late. Liquid pulled Ocelot’s revolver from its holster and rapidly fired three shots. Blood sprayed from their bodies as each of them fell to the ground, writhing to death. The Weatherman jumped from his relaxed position and leapt behind one of the workstations as Liquid fired round after round in his direction. Then, the click of an empty chamber and Liquid turned his fury back to Twenty-Seven.

“ _ I _ freed you from your cell, didn’t I? Not Snake, never Snake! And Snake didn’t kill me, FOXDIE did!”

Twenty-Seven smirked. “Making you angry was the best way to wake you up from your sweet dreams.”

A wave of realisation washed over Liquid’s face. “Careful my dear,” he said, suddenly and eerily calm. “You’re playing a dangerous game. Ocelot came prepared to face Snake.” Liquid opened his coat to reveal an enormous knife, so big it looked like a small sword, and an inexplicable number of grenades. “He wasn’t ready to let him win again.”

Twenty-Seven wasted no time. She pounced forward and with her hands outstretched grabbed two of the grenades from Liquid’s coat!

“!” Liquid jumped back as Twenty-Seven pulled the pin off of one of the grenades and lobbed it at the Weatherman’s hiding spot. The Weatherman jumped back into view and rolled away as the grenade exploded behind him, destroying the workstation. He snapped his eyes onto Twenty-Seven. She stared back, hand on grenade. She only had the one left. The Weatherman pulled his hands back in an arch, and electricity began to visibly manifest in his palms. Twenty-Seven’s muscles tensed as she prepared to dodge the lightning bolt, when suddenly! A burst of gunfire ripped through the room and struck the Weatherman. He stumbled backwards, clutching his side. Twenty-Seven turned to Liquid, who had remained passive during the encounter, and then both of them turned around to see the man who had fired the shots. He was standing at the far side of the room, automatic rifle in hand, bandana flowing free.

Solid Snake.

“Snake!” yelled Twenty-Seven. Liquid grinned as the old soldier approached them.

“Didn’t think I’d let you have all the fun, did ya kid?” Snake peered at Liquid. "And who's there?"

"Me, brother," Liquid said in his proud British voice, "For now."

"And who is that?" Snake asked with disgust, lazily gesturing to the Weatherman who had started crawling away.

"Some crazy that Ocelot turned into a super-soldier using  _ APPOLYON _ ," said Liquid, "I told you I'd show it to you."

"Not… Ocelot…" the Weatherman spat through blood. He summoned a bolt of lightning and hurled it at the trio. They all leapt their separate ways, easily avoiding the blast. Snake and Liquid were behind cover, and both of them started reloading.

"So, this machine, it fuses things together?" asked Snake, slapping the new magazine into his rifle.

"That's right, Snake, it can make one out of many," Liquid replied as he slammed a long silver bullet into a well greased chamber. Twenty-Seven was hunkered near the rubble of a workstation with full view of the Weatherman, who rose and extended his arms. Electricity zapped out of his fingers and connected above his head before forming a massive sphere of energy around his body. Snake popped up from behind cover and fired off a round - but when it hit the sphere of energy, it bounced right back! Snake ducked down as the bullet ricocheted nearby. The Weatherman's energy shield hummed, and Twenty-Seven watched as he approached the Snakes.

"I'll kill you both! Your forecast is death!" He cried as he shot lightning out of the sphere. It struck the Snakes cover, and she heard them both grunt. Twenty-Seven watched closely as he fired another bolt… the shield parted, ever so briefly, whenever he fired a shot! She stood up, and approached slowly from behind, careful not to alert the madman. She held her grenade in hand, and waited for her window of opportunity. The Weatherman clasped his hands together and fired a continuous beam of energy at the Snakes cover, completely melting the steel and leaving them both completely exposed. This was her chance. Twenty-Seven pulled the pin and stepped up to the Weatherman and popped the live grenade into his protective shield.

"What???" he cried out as he felt the grenade bounce against his leg. He desperately closed to the shield, but this only sealed him in. The grenade bounced back and forth between the inner walls of the energy shield. Liquid took cover behind the dais.

"NO!" the Weatherman shouted as he was vaporised. Twenty-Seven watched as at first the energy shield absorbed the blast, pulsating with a rising hum, but then everything went black.

As the Weatherman's energy shield exploded and the shockwave knocked Snake to the ground. He looked up as the electrical blast faded, and saw Twenty-Seven lying motionless next to the smouldering pile of ash that used to be the Weatherman. Snake's stomach dropped as he heard a creaking, groaning noise, and the pile of ash began to… disappear through a crack in the metal floor.  _ The structural integrity _ ! Snake thought as the floor gave way, a massive hole opening up in the middle of R&D, swallowing Twenty-Seven.

"Twenty-Seven!" Snake yelled, and leapt forward, arms outstretched in an attempt to catch her… but he grasped nothing but air. The floor opened up more, and Snake felt himself falling now. Below him was an abyss filled with shrapnel and he reached out to save himself. His left hand caught a piece of rebarb in the floor, and he held on. Twenty-Seven was gone, into the darkness below.

"Twenty-Seven!" Snake yelled, but there was no reply. "No…" He hung there for a few moments.

Then a clink, clink, clink filled the silence.

"Give me your hand," said a voice. Snake looked up. Liquid stood over him, arm out, hand open. Or… was it? Suddenly the rebarb jolted as it bent, and Snake swung his legs out.

"Grrrh, hrrggah!" he said as he threw up his right arm and took Liquid's hand. He felt himself be lifted up, and with a final pull he felt his feet land on solid ground. The hole was behind him, and someone still had a grip on his hand.

"Liquid…" Snake said, panting. "You saved me." He glanced up and saw the face sneering back. This wasn't Liquid.

Silver and red flashed before his eyes as Ocelot severed his arm. He weld the small sword with efficiency, a single clean swing was all it took. Snake's hand, still holding on to Liquid Ocelot, was cast into the hole in the ground by the Russian Cowboy. Snake heard what sounded like rain on the metal floor. He looked down to see it was blood pouring from his arm.

"How does it feel, Snake?" Ocelot snarled.

“GAH!” Snake felt the pain and the shock all at once. He dropped to his knees, clutching his bleeding limb.

"Now you know how it feels," Ocelot made finger guns at Snake, “Payback’s a bitch!”

“That was Grey Fox,” Snake corrected, but it was no use.

Ocelot pulled his revolver out. Liquid had freshly loaded it, and now Ocelot prepared to fire. Snake’s military instincts kicked in and he rolled behind cover - only to find himself completely dizzy and nauseous. A trail of blood followed him from his original position, splattered across the floor like a work of modern art. Ocelot fired a shot, entirely for show, at the cover Snake cowered behind.

“I know where you are, Snake,” Ocelot gloated. He stepped up onto the dais, where the dying flames from the Weatherman’s attack still flickered. “There’s no escape, not this time. No Grey Fox to save you. No Lady Luck. No FOXDIE.”

Snake had to stop the bleeding. He took off his bandana and wrapped it around his stump, then pulled a knot tight with his teeth and remaining hand. He looked around for his rifle - he needed to shoot back!

“Don’t think about shooting back, Snake,” Ocelot interrupted. “I've been defeated by Snakes twice already and I won't let it happen a third time. That's why... “ Ocelot grinned, “I already released Ire’s toxin into the room. Just before I helped you out of the hole, I opened up this canister.” Ocelot tapped his revolver against something on the dais. Snake risked a peek out of cover, and saw the canister. A large cylinder with a green skull patterned over its surface.

“This entire room is compromised, Snake, as the lethal gas has filled this entire room. R&D is a death room now! And it will be, for as long as the toxin retains its half-life. Hah! As I pulled you out of that hole, I pulled you to your death! You’d have been better off taking the plunge, Solid Snake.”

Snake groaned as pain pulsated from where his arm used to be, but he found the energy to speak. "...toxin?"

"That's right," said Ocelot, "The toxin coursing through your veins is a more evolved and more lethal version of the same toxin that killed your precious Master Miller."

"Ocelot!" Snake spat. He felt his knees grow numb. "You're killing yourself. What kind of psychopath… are you? You'll kill yourself… just to kill me?"

"Snake, Snake!" Ocelot snarled, "Haven't you been paying attention?" From his long coat he revealed the syringe Mottle had given him earlier. "I'm the kind of psychopath that plans ahead!"

Snake watched in horror as Ocelot injected the  _ antidote _ into his arm. Liquid's arm… then, Ocelot tossed the syringe in Snake's direction. It cracked open when it hit the metal floor, and Snake looked at it in despair. There was nothing left inside. All of it had been injected, and Snake was shit out of luck. He suddenly wretched and vomited bile onto the floor. Was it from shock, or the toxin that coursed through his veins? At this point, Snake couldn't tell the difference.

Ocelot laughed. He holstered his revolver.

"When you die, Snake, I think I'll take a piece of you. The machine is ready. I already have part of the girl. You know, Liquid and I share 75% compatibility. That makes you, as his twin, a prime specimen for harvest. What part of you should I add to my body? Not your lungs; you've ruined them with years of smoking. Not your arms or eyes either; I know from studying the Shadow Moses incident that you require a full dose of diazepam just to shoot straight. Perhaps... I'll take your stomach! You are a clone of Big Boss, after all, and I've seen what that man can eat!"

Snake felt total powerlessness. He could barely keep himself from collapsing in a pile on the floor… but still…  _ there has to be a way! _

"Liquid!" Snake yelled through the pain, "LIQUID!!!"

Ocelot stopped monologuing and glared at Snake. "You really think your  _ brother _ will save you? He's nothing more than a ghost, a dream inside my body! There's no way you can get the antidote in your bloodstream, Snake. He can't save you!" Ocelot began chuckling. Then, the chuckle became a cackle, which became a painful sound as Ocelot doubled over. Snake let himself smile as Ocelot gasped with shock. "Ach! No… stay… away…" Ocelot's grimace transformed into a contented smile as Liquid emerged once again from his dream.

"Brother," Liquid said calmly, "So nice of you to call."

"The toxin…" Snake gasped.

"Is coursing through your veins while the antidote courses through mine." Liquid spoke deliberately, articulating each sound.

Suddenly, Ocelot's grimace returned, and Liquid and Ocelot spoke as one - a raspy-clear british-american warning-threat. " _ You're running out of time, Snake _ ."

Ocelot swung at Liquid but Liquid ducked out of the way and elbowed Ocelot in the stomach. It knocked the wind out of both of them, and Ocelot's sword clattered to the dais floor.

" _ You'll never win!! _ " They shouted at themselves as they fought, " _ You've already lost!! _ "

Snake used his workstation as leverage to pull himself, slowly, to his feet. He watched as Liquid Ocelot traded blows - it was hard to tell who was winning.

"Liquid!" he croaked with his might, "I want you to win, Liquid! I want you to survive!"

Suddenly, the fighting stopped. Liquid straightened his back and assumed the same posture he had at the Big Shell.

"There's only one way to ensure we both survive, brother," Liquid's voice was separate to Ocelot's again. He looked at his arm with the syringe's puncture mark, then to Snake's bloody wound, then at  _ APPOLYON. _ "You know what you have to do, Snake."

Liquid unholstered Ocelot's revolver and aimed it at his own head.

"Say goodbye to Revolver Ocelot," he said as he pulled the trigger.

"NO!" Ocelot shouted as his brains were splattered across the dais. Snake gasped and fell to his knees in shock. Ocelot's body crumpled to the ground. The gunshot echoed throughout R&D, then faded. Only the sounds of dying flames and dripping blood remained.

Snake crawled toward the dais. His movements were stilted, pained. His vision was fuzzy from the shock, the toxin, and the sweat that ran freely down his forehead now that his bandana was tied around his stump. He moved forward. He pulled himself up the dais, pushing off his feet and pulling with his remaining arm, step by step. Finally, he reached his goal.

Ocelot was dead. His eyes and mouth wide with shock, his moustache tinted red as a pool of his blood grew beneath it. And somewhere in there was what remained of Liquid Snake… and a blood stream containing the life-saving antidote. Liquid's arm was clearly segmented from the rest of Ocelot's body. It was paler, more muscular, less aged. The dividing line was clear, and Snake used all of his energy to focus on it… as he picked up Ocelot's sword and began to HACK.

The wet, gruesome sound joined the cacophony of R&D. Flicker, drip, hack. Flicker, drip, hack. With a final swing, Snake severed Liquid's arm from Ocelot's torso. He dropped the sword and picked up the arm and let himself cascade down the steps, twisting to face his next goal: APPOLYON.

He remembered Ocelot's words as he inched his way closer. " _ The machine is ready. _ " Ocelot must have prepared it earlier. The machine itself seemed to not have an entrance, but a button that glowed green was Snake's way in. He reached up from the ground, using Liquid's arm for extra reach, and smacked the button. APPOLYON opened, twisting its cylindrical layers until a large vertical gap welcomed Snake inside.

Snake crawled forward until his entire body was inside, then sat up against APPOLYON's inner wall.

“Two entities detected,” a robotic voice resonated through the chamber. “Awaiting verbal input.”

Snake held Liquid’s arm up to the disembodied voice. “Do it!” He yelled, “Commence! Start!”

Something worked. The chamber spun, the gap closed, and APPOLYON was sealed. Dozens of mechanical appendages, once indistinguishable from the wall they separated from, descended toward Snake. From beneath him, sterilising steam filled the chamber. His vision was now completely blurred, his blood-loss and toxin-intake had reached its culmination - and the steam didn’t help. But he felt the mechanical arms take hold of him, of his remaining limbs, lifting him up into the center of the chamber. Beneath him some of the appendages joined together, forming an operating table. One of them gently pried Liquid’s arm from his grasp, and held it above him as he drifted into semi-consciousness. APPOLYON worked quickly, sedating only the area it intended to operate on as it detected any further anesthetic risked killing its patient. It first sliced Snake’s bandana, freeing his stump, and then sliced further into his flesh making space for the detected replacement. A syringe filled with unknown chemicals shot out from the wall and into Snake’s stump. Any hope for him to get through this without pain vanished as his eyes opened wide and he let out an involuntary scream of absolute agony… then he blacked out.

He dreamed of watching Liquid die on the snowy cliff of Shadow Moses.


End file.
